


No Monopoly on Altruism

by kinirohana



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alcohol, Awkward Crush, Drabble Sequence, If awkwardness were magic Dettlaff would be a Source, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Oblivious Regis, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2018-11-02 21:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 58
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinirohana/pseuds/kinirohana
Summary: 100 word drabbles for the rarest of rare pairs. Starting in the days where Dettlaff is resuscitating Regis after his dissolution by Vilgefortz.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As each entry is very short, I recommend you use the "Entire Work" setting for easier reading.

A chill breeze swept the swamp, ruffling the black hair of the only sentient creature roaming the wastes. Dettlaff stopped to scent it. Sea salt, mud, drowner refuse…Nothing concerning, beyond the tell-tale tinge of high pressure. He would have to start now if he wished to return before the rains. He didn’t mind, but he knew without knowing that Regis would dislike it if the cave smelt of wet deer. That was the nature of the bond he’d created – to know another as he knew himself. Intimacy. It was…perplexing. Heartening. A balm for the harsh edges of this unfamiliar world.


	2. Chapter 2

Theirs was not a single cave. Only the young believed a dead-end hole could be anything but a grave. No, theirs was myriad foxholes carved by the long labor of the world’s birth; a place where vampiric senses held maximum advantage. Dettlaff’s footsteps echoed in caverns which dwarf petty human chapels, skittered across the close walls of narrow passages, disappeared into nothing when crossing lazy rivers.

Finally, they stopped at the base of a jagged wall. Candlelight flickered from the elevated mouth of their refuge, blinded him when he alighted on its ledge. The deer was dry on his back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to publish one of these every day as a test of commitment. Longer things may come in time.


	3. Chapter 3

Blood flowed over wood and steel. Not the deer’s, but his own. Regis would not have the strength to process lesser, impure bloods. Dettlaff spared the pale, grotesque form of his half-healed body a passing glance. His hair, such as it was, was coming in greyer than Dettlaff remembered it. Did he remember it? It had only been the once, many decades ago, and Dettlaff had been kneeling in chains. Perhaps he was mistaken…

Such flights of fancy hardly mattered. Chalice full, he went to feed his ward. He had time enough before Regis would truly awaken. Time to prepare.


	4. Chapter 4

Even vampires would eventually go mad if kept underground with nothing to do. In a nook sheltered from the main room by a row of stalagmites, Dettlaff busied himself at a desk. Papers were strewn all about, each covered with as much furious scratching-out as the next.

~~I don’t believe I ever had the pleasure~~

~~I am Dettlaff van der Eretein and~~

~~Given your exceptionally unexpected actions at~~

~~I humbly apologize for the consequences of this~~

Dettlaff snarled. Banged a clenched fist against the table. Crumpled the offending parchment and hurled it away. Five _years_ , and this was his progress?!


	5. Chapter 5

Dettlaff strode through the bustling market of an insignificant village, burlap shopping sack on one shoulder, desperate to escape the tortuous sound of a child’s first fiddling lesson.

  
The deer barely sustained him for three months. He had to remind himself that he was eating for two, to stave off the gnawing guilt which crept up his spine. Yet there was no excuse for the spectacle he’d made of the parchment…

  
“Hey!”

  
He nearly fell over from surprise as a small, angry teenager yanked him off his course. Instinctively , he clutched his bag to try and hide rapidly growing claws.


	6. Chapter 6

“You free, mister?” The girl crossed her arms and barked like a sergeant.

“Free…?”

“Not busy! My dumbass brother went and got pinned under a log! We need more people to get it off ‘em! He’s a fucking moron, but he don’t deserve to die!” Anger bled together with sadness in the girl’s eyes, a single thread plucked from a tapestry Dettlaff knew nothing of. He shifted, worms in his gut. Yet, surely if it were Regis…

“…Alright.” He followed her, he helped free the boy, and when the girl was embracing her groaning brother, he disappeared in a blink.


	7. Chapter 7

The cold air high above the earth was best for clearing his mind, and that night Dettlaff needed it desperately. He angled upward and rose through the fish-scale clouds. Here, with the stars close and the bewildering demands of society far away, he found peace.

Regis drew his first breath a month after Dettlaff returned from the market. Time was running short, but still the adamantine wall of writer’s block refused every assault.

His childhood tutor had always complained that Dettlaff killed creativity with overthinking. Perhaps he was right. But the very notion of unpreparedness drove nails under his skin.


	8. Chapter 8

Dettlaff was reading when Regis stirred. The sudden grunt shattering the silence nearly scared him out of his skin. Immediately, he abandoned his book and crouched by the bedside. Eyes twitched frantically under closed lids. A nightmare? Pain?

Gentle as a summer zephyr, Dettlaff settled one hand on Regis’ forehead. All he felt was the steady warmth of life. Good. A dream, he could manage.

Helping to care for the clan’s young gifted Dettlaff with surpassing skill in banishing nightmares.  All he needed was a soft touch, patience, and a lullaby from their people’s homeland. Soon enough, all was calm.


	9. Chapter 9

“You must return! This ridiculous disappearing act of yours has gone on too long!” The harsh voice of a snarling bruxa echoed from the telecommunicator.

“It is no act, Gethera. We have discussed this before. I cannot return until he is healed.” Dettlaff asserted, his posture impeccable as he withstood his clanmate’s accusations.

“Do you take me for a moron? What injury takes 4 years to heal?! If you’ve tired of our primitive company, just say it and spare us the stories!”

“Sister, you and the clan are my family. I would never abandon you.”

“Prove it, _brother_. Come home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gethera - A powerful bruxa and the de facto leader of Dettlaff's clan in his absence
> 
> I am new to the Witcher fandom, so please forgive my one-size-fits-all usage of 'telecommunicator'. If there's a better word for magical long distance talky devices, please let me know!


	10. Chapter 10

It happens gradually, in parts and pieces. A spark struggling against the wind.

Eyes. Red in his vision, spots of color pulsating to the beat of his heart.  Light.

Lungs breathing. Nose. The scent of limestone and stale water. A cave.

Fingers. Hands. Muscles untrained. Hair tickles his skin.

Footsteps. Soft. Hand on his forehead. Large, warm. Thin calluses on the fingertips. A kinsman.

In the void beyond his mind, a chord of worry thrums.

“Be at peace.”  

It grows and spirals until four others join it and the crescendo of panic rips his mind from its shapeless wandering.

“Geralt!”


	11. Chapter 11

Just those two syllables send Regis into a violent coughing fit. His claws rip the bedsheets as he struggles to move, breathe, _remember_. He hears his pulse in his ears, feels every tender vein in his body throb in time with it. Wants to scream. Can barely breathe.

“Do not struggle, sir. Your body is not ready. This effort only injures you further.”

The kinsman restrains him with gentle but unquestionable strength.  His head hits the pillow as the fight leaves him. But, Geralt…

A cold, writhing thing twists itself around Regis’ ribcage.

“When…”

“The 27th of Melitas, 1271.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find any notes on month systems in the Witcher universe, so I created Melitas based on the name of the goddess Melitele.


	12. Chapter 12

Dettlaff practically falls onto the nearest chair, his heart pounding and hands trembling as he tries to process what just happened.

Obviously, Regis’ regeneration has progressed quicker than he could ever have imagined.

The man in question has been driven back to unconsciousness by the pain of forcing himself beyond his limits. Dettlaff winces at the memory. The confused babbling probably should’ve been expected, but he cannot shake the shame of invading another’s privacy. If there was any other way…

But there is not. He must finish what he started, must hold true. Their people cannot afford to lose Regis.  


	13. Chapter 13

“I was melted?”

“Yes, into glass. It took two years before your remains began to respond to my blood.”

“I still can’t believe what you did…I don’t know what to say. 'Thank you' seems so…trifling. But I am grateful, I assure you.”

“I did not do it for your gratitude.”

“Then you are a rare man indeed! A man whose name I shamefully do not know.”

“Dettlaff van der Eretein.” He pauses, looks down at his hands. Bites his lip, then looks away. “You were present at my trial several centuries ago, though you likely do not remember.”


	14. Chapter 14

“A trial…Held before the Elder in Nazair, about three centuries ago?”

“Yes.”

“I do remember – such audiences are impossible to forget. You were very lucky to be pardoned.” Deep shadows betray Regis’ fatigue, yet he still tries to smile. Dettlaff cannot help but admire that.

“A fact I know too well. You spoke in my defense that day. Voted for my life.”

“And what you’ve done outstrips that by entire orders of magnitude…brother.” His smile falls with a little sigh of exhaustion. It sends irrational worry spiking like thunder through Dettlaff.

“Sir?” He shakes him.

“Just ‘Regis’, please.”


	15. Chapter 15

Candles tremble in the breeze. One soul lies anxious, wide awake; fearing the memory of burning hot pain.

But is this truly only a memory? Without Dettlaff’s presence to distinguish reality, Regis can’t quite tell.

Pain alone, he could endure. It is the unknown which tortures him more doggedly than his joints, veins, or eyes.

He is not ashamed of how much he would trade just to know what happened to the hansa. His arrogance cost him the fight with Vilgefortz, but how much more had it cost Geralt and Ciri?

His stomach roils as if the acid never left.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which song inspired that first line lol


	16. Chapter 16

Lulled by force of habit, Dettlaff fails to announce his arrival on the cave’s ledge. That is how he comes to encounter Regis, not even a month after his awakening, struggling like an injured caterpillar on the floor.

“What happened?” He drops the shopping without a second thought and kneels by his side.

“I cannot…stand…to sit around…” Regis pants, his skin clammy and slick with sweat. Dettlaff ignores his protests and pulls him back onto the bed.

“I believe you mean you cannot stand _or_ sit.” Dettlaff chides. A brief smile graces his lips.

“Oh, look who’s smart…”


	17. Chapter 17

“Dettlaff, please, this is quite unnecessary.”

“You have tried to push yourself beyond your physical limits twelve times in the last week.”

“That’s an exaggeration! You’re letting the incident with the oil lamp color your perception.”

“Perhaps. But intuition tells me that any situation requiring the words ‘incident’ and ‘burning oil’ to describe it is inherently serious.”

“It barely touched me!”

“I suppose it was occupied with setting the bed on fire.”

“Acid would have been far, far more serious.”

“True, but irrelevant.”

Regis keens with frustration and tries once more to escape the sack Dettlaff has tied around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine how parents used to duct-tape oven mitts to their kids when they had chicken pox, and you've got the perfect image of Regis' suffering.


	18. Chapter 18

Dettlaff’s footsteps make no sound as he approaches a cluster of cottages cradling a cliff. Door by door, he continues onward until he arrives at the cliff’s base. A drop of blood on the stone works as a key to the secret entrance.

“Well, well. I wondered who had the balls to walk unarmed in our wood. Good to see you again, brother.” Gethera lay in wait beyond the door, her fangs slipping through her razor-sharp smile.

“You as well, sister.”

“So, your pet project finished?”

“No. But…I have been considering a solution.”

“You? Thinking? Elders save us all.”


	19. Chapter 19

“You expect us to play host for that _humanist_?” Gethera sneers.

“He has done you no evil.”

“He whored himself out to a witcher. That’s enough.”

“He was helping in a rescue attempt. We cannot assume betrayal by association alone.”

“Maybe you can’t, but bruxae don’t have the luxury of immortality! I refuse to expose my home - my children - to silver swords for the sake of your savior complex.”

“You think I value your lives so lightly?”

“I _think_ you’re in the habit of putting too much faith in people who have no intention of repaying the investment.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Detta! Detta, Detta, Detta!!” The rapidly approaching cries herald the collision of several small children with Dettlaff’s legs. Caught unawares, he barely catches himself before the little ones are climbing all over him.

“Detta, did you bring us presents?!”

“Where were you? Why did you go?”

“You dummie, he went to save his friend! Cuz he’s a hero! Duh!”

“Alright, alright!” Dettlaff laughs as he corrals the squirming youngsters into his arms. “There was sadly no heroism, and I’m very sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. But you are right – a friend needed my help.”

“Told ya!”

“What about presents…?”


	21. Chapter 21

At least Dettlaff left him with some entertainment before going off on his mysterious ‘errand’. Regis has begun rationing chapters of the book, not convinced it will last until his return. It also serves as an excellent weight for his physical training. At his most desperate, he uses it as a musical instrument. Anything to break the deafening silence of the deep.

The first couple of days, his mind had played tricks on him. Imagined footsteps, breathing, shadows. Now, the oppressive solitude feels just as caging as his weak, bedridden body.

He wonders if the sun is shining right now.


	22. Chapter 22

When Dettlaff walks through the entrance, Regis nearly screams.

“I didn’t realize my face was so terrifying.”

“No! Dear gods, you gave me a heart attack! Please, make some noise to let me know you’re coming…” He pants, one hand pressing on his racing heart.

“Ah, my apologies. I was eager to return.”

“Well, welcome back…! I trust your trip was enjoyable?”

“Indeed. Though my return is no less so, thanks to you.” Was that a smile? Regis grins a toothy grin of his own as he sits up.

“It was honestly dreadful without you – I almost expired from boredom.”


	23. Chapter 23

“But why? Why live amongst humans when you know they would all turn on you at a moment’s notice?” Dettlaff’s brow is twisted with confusion.

“Because I honestly believe that humans have the capacity to understand us. Who can blame them for fearing vampires? The legends of Tesham Mutna and antics of our lesser brethren aren’t exactly endearing. We are the same as fire or wolves to them – inherently destructive and incapable of defying our nature”

 “You wish to parley with those who see us as beasts?”

“If only because hissing and snarling hasn’t worked out so great for us.”


	24. Chapter 24

“Dettlaff, humor my curiosity.” Regis pushes himself into a sitting position to speak.  

“Yes?”

“Why did you choose to revive me here? How far down are we, exactly?”

“We are guests of Elder Dumar. This cave is about an hour’s flight from the Fifth Gate, two from the surface.” The topic clearly isn’t as fascinating for Dettlaff – he merely continues reading.

“Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry.”

“I think my brain stopped processing sound three hours into the ‘proud vampiric lineage’ monologue. But it paid off – proximity to the Gate sped your recovery.”

“You’re a saint and a martyr, dear man.”


	25. Chapter 25

“Lean farther.”

“This – Ow! – isn’t what I had in mind when I – Stop! You’re going to snap my spine!”

“My apologies.” Dettlaff eases the pressure on Regis’ shoulder blades, allowing the man freedom to move. “I only intended to help…”

“I know…” He groans. Regis falls on his side with arms akimbo.

“I am not well suited to nursing.” Dettlaff retreats, but Regis still catches the fearful tension wrinkling his brow.

“No harm done! But please do believe me the next time I protest. Physical training is supposed to be gradual, not intensive.”

“Ah…I’ve often been criticized for that.”


	26. Chapter 26

“If you were hungry, you ought to have spoken earlier.” Dettlaff chided while bleeding his wrist over a cup. Regis grappled the throes of vertigo, a condition Dettlaff has officially lost all sympathy for. If there was one flaw he would attribute to the man, impatience was it. He meant no malice by it, of course, but it still felt like a sting towards Dettlaff’s company.

That witcher must be quite the compelling man.

“I didn’t want to trouble you. You’ve only just returned.”

“You do realize this is the fourth year I’ve cared for you, yes? It’s never trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is your eye color changing, Dettlaff? Green doesn't suit you


	27. Chapter 27

“I’d very much like to take a stroll to the surface sometime. Whenever you happen to be available, of course.”

“Hm. I’ll have to scout the woods beforehand. There’s a leshen about.”

“Y-You’re actually considering it?” His voice falls to an incredulous whisper.

“I am not some fairytale monster set on imprisoning you. It has ever only been an issue of your physical condition. If you wish, and are able, then it shall be so.”

“Forgive me. My disbelief insulted us both.”

“Personally, I found the blind categorization more insulting. Protecting our more bloodthirsty cousins does not a beast make.”


	28. Chapter 28

Even the dim, silvery glow of moonlight dazzles him after so long in the dark. Exhilaration takes flight in Regis’ chest just to breathe free air again; to hear the wind and crunch of grass beneath Dettlaff’s feet.

“Amazing…” He whispers, fearing that the mundane scene before him would shatter like an illusion. From his perch on Dettlaff’s back, he catches the sound of an aborted chuckle.

“A trip well made, then?”

“Absolutely! I have no words…!”

“And here I’d stopped believing in miracles!” This time, Dettlaff laughs without restraint. After a good-natured slap to the shoulder, Regis joins in.


	29. Chapter 29

Dettlaff lowers Regis onto the soft grass at the edge of a stream. A warm breeze ruffles their hair and carries the scent of blooming lilies.

“I thought you said we were underneath a swamp? This is far too picturesque!”

“Did it never occur that I might have chosen one of the better locales for our excursion?” Dettlaff smiles for once, without reserve.

“It did, but I dismissed it as entirely too considerate a gesture to waste on the likes of me.” Regis chuckles as he leans back on the loam.

“Is that one of your ‘self-depreciating jokes’?”

“You’re learning!”


	30. Chapter 30

“Thank you again, Dettlaff. You have no idea how good it feels to see the outside world again.” Regis sighs. He’s sprawled out across the long riverside grass, feet dipping in and out of the shallow water. In a rare break from habit, Dettlaff has joined in on the relaxation.

“There are no thanks required. Star-gazing is always a pleasure, especially with a fellow enthusiast.” He turns his head to smile at the other man.

“Indeed, though I still don’t believe I honestly qualify as an enthusiast. I just picked it up from the good folk on Skellige.”

“You speak fondly of the islands. What convinced you to leave?”

“Oh, the usual. I’d already been there for nearly twenty years and the townsfolk were starting to ask questions. And what better way to make my escape than on the heels of a noble cause?”

“Mmm. The witcher’s love for his daughter is legend.”

“Would you believe it if I told you that’s just how Geralt is? If you have his favor, you have it unreservedly. The honesty of it appeals greatly.” A gentle smile curves his lips. Not that Dettlaff is watching…

“The intensity doesn’t unsettle you?”

“Why should it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed my first day all month, but there were some crazy circumstances that left me too anxious to focus on writing. Hope you guys enjoy this double-portion drabble!


	31. Chapter 31

Dettlaff reflected on Regis’ words while keeping watch over his sleeping friend. Two days after the excursion and he was still having difficulty wrapping his head around all that had been said.

Some people liked intensity.

The implications were equal parts unsettling and exhilarating.

Dettlaff had never imagined himself being involved in a romance. In childhood, striving for his parent’s approval had been life’s only goal. Later, finding his place in the world took precedence. And throughout all of it, criticism for his one-track personality remained constant. He was always too _something_.

He’d never imagined anyone would consider him ‘enough’.


	32. Chapter 32

Regis couldn’t claim to be the most observant man ever, but there was definitely something off about Dettlaff. It set his nerves on edge. Had he let too much slip during their trip to the surface? Or perhaps there was some other matter in Dettlaff’s life that he had no knowledge of?

That in turn raised another question – just how much did he know about Dettlaff to begin with? Every now and then, he ran into moments where he could predict the other man with absolute accuracy. Then, the very next second, he was left spinning with confusion.

Like now.

“Ready?” The warm breath fanning against his cheek may have been a distraction, were Regis not cursing his immobility and reliance on Dettlaff.   

“What?” Regis twisted in his grasp, trying to catch his gaze. “Ready for what?”

“Practice.”

“What practice?!”

“I’m going to let go slowly.”

“Dettlaff!”

“The results of your physical therapy scheme have been unimpressive. I’m now taking the walking initiative into my own hands.”

“You’re not a doctor!” Regis screeched as he felt the large hands around his waist loosen.

“You’re very easy to fool.” Dettlaff laughed as he pulled Regis close once more. Regis merely huffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed yet another day yesterday, but my excuse is that kittens are a lot of work!


	33. Chapter 33

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Dettlaff, because that’s not true at all. I’m simply curious whether it’s possible or not.”

“This cave is the safest place for you.”

“Physically, I agree. But mentally, it’s driving me mad. And knowing that Elder Dumar is probably listening to our every fart isn’t helping.”

“I would hope he has better uses for his time.”

“You’ve been awfully smart lately. Don’t try to dodge the issue.”

“I’m doing no such thing. Simply utilizing the concept of ‘humor’ you so helpfully introduced me to.”

“Don’t make me regret that more than I already do.”


	34. Chapter 34

“What do you think of Nazair?” Dettlaff questions out of the blue one evening.

“I’ve never spent much time there, honestly. Your trial was the last time I managed to make it that far south.”

“It is a lovely land. Far warmer than this Velen. I keep a small home in which you could complete your recovery…If you’re unopposed to continuing this arrangement.”

“It’s above ground, correct?”

“Indeed. It’s a cottage a few days from Nilfgaard proper. Not terribly much to boast about, but the roof is dry. And there are windows.”

“You know how to pull my strings!”


	35. Chapter 35

Walking is a skill that one does not easily forget. Apparently, that fact holds true even if the body which did the walking got melted to the atomic level.

 “Ooof!” That being said, one must always fall before one can fly. The air rushes out of Regis’ chest as his knees buckle yet again. The idea of Dettlaff’s cottage pushes him forward, motivates him to prop hand on knee and shakily rise to his feet. He still remembers moonlight on his skin…  

Thoughts of Geralt’s hansa are far away. His spine will crawl with shame when he realizes his failure.


	36. Chapter 36

Dettlaff gives the broom one last gargantuan swing, ushering the last pile of dust out of his cottage. Although he’d never lied to Regis, but he did forget to mention that he hadn’t lived here since he joined Gethera’s clan 40 years ago.

The stone walls are built to endure long periods of disuse and the worst of nature’s fury. Dettlaff had foolishly believed that meant it would be easier to clean. He’s in his sixth hour of dust removal. A painful cramp stings his left shoulder.

He should have given this more thought. Impulse never ended well for him.


	37. Chapter 37

Two weeks later, Dettlaff found himself ushering things into the cottage rather than out. It made sense for the able-bodied party to bring non-essential items ahead. He’d volunteered, in fact. Talking to Regis continued to be a quagmire of things he neither could nor desired to name.

The labor cleared his mind and energized his body. Keeping tab of the fluctuating list of chores, errands, and reminders was barely a conscious effort.

It was a precious chance for him to just exist. No one and nothing around to tear down his focus.

If only he could do this while flying.


	38. Chapter 38

Regis wept for joy when the first beam of sunlight hit his face. Reality flooded into his mind, banishing every clinging terror and squirming anxiety with the simple magic of birdsong and running water.  

“By the Elders…” He swore, reverence and awe equally measured.

“We may stop, if you wish.” As always, Dettlaff was his rock in the storm. Regis squeezed his shoulder and spared him a wet smile.

“Not on your life! If I ever step foot in another cave again, it’ll be far too soon.”

“As you wish.”

“I _will_ repay you, Dettlaff. I swear by our blood.”


	39. Chapter 39

Much like beauty, the nature of luck depended on perspective and opinion. Thus, it wasn’t unusual for the sight of the town’s bustling market day to draw as much trepidation from Dettlaff as it did glee from Regis.

“Must we stay the night? You haven’t had trouble today.” He swallowed his guilt in the name of avoiding an awkward encounter with old acquaintances. Perhaps if his luck held...

“Today being the last four hours, prior to which I was a heaving mess of muscle cramps. We’re staying.”

“As you wish…”

“Hey! You! Sir!”

Luck was, in Dettlaff’s opinion, a bitch.


	40. Chapter 40

“Friends of yours?” Dettlaff didn’t catch Regis’ sideways glance as a group of humans pursued them. He was too busy cursing every god, devil and minor deity he could recall.

“I’m not sure.” He murmured, only stopping because ignoring the oncoming group was no longer an option. Turning around slowly, he balked to see nearly every human in the village behind them.

“This is him, Pa! The one who got the cart off Sebbie! Long time no see, sir!” A girl gestured to him with a flourish. Had he met her before? And what in the hell was a Sebbie?  


	41. Chapter 41

To Dettlaff’s horror, a hulking man stepped forward and lifted him off of his feet. An attack? No…An embrace?  He shoved his hands into his pockets immediately.

“Sir, I cannot say this enough – without you, my boy would be dead! He was suffocating under that thing, he was, and if you’d come even an hour later his chest’d’ve been crushed. Thank you.”

“Please…think nothing of it. Any other would have done the same.” He demurred, praying for the hug to end.

“Half the town and fifteen of the king’s men passed. You were the only one good enough to stop.”


	42. Chapter 42

It was clear that the regeneration process had impacted Regis’ mental faculties. There was no other reasonable explanation for how Dettlaff now found himself sandwiched between said vampire and the strangers from before at the inn’s feast table. And worse yet, Regis seemed to be _enjoying_ himself.

“And so I told him, ‘You’re looking at it!’.”

All present burst into laughter at the punchline – himself included. Dettlaff had to admit, not so unwillingly, that Regis had a flair for storytelling. Every twist served to enthrall them further. 

“Aye, what I’d pay to see the look on his face!”


	43. Chapter 43

“Well, I’d say we’re far enough away by now. Why don’t you open it?” Regis suggested. Since they left the town and its overly friendly inhabitants behind yesterday morn, Dettlaff’s mood had vacillated between thoughtful and sulking. At that moment, thoughtful won out as he stared at the parcel in his hands.

“I still do not understand why I was given anything at all. I wasn’t the only one who assisted.”

“Is gratitude not enough?”

“I don’t see how my assistance was noteworthy.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect anything grand. You’re likely getting your knickers in a twist over nothing.” Regis had the distinct impression that attempting to ease Dettlaff’s guilt was a futile engagement.

“Perhaps. I have been known to overcomplicate.” He joked, glancing at Regis with a smirk.

“Don’t forget understatements, now. You’re quite excellent at those, too.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Still smirking, he returned his attention to the parcel. Three quick cuts with his claws revealed a striking red tunic. And inside, a note:

_My gran would throttle me if I let a god-sent guest go cold. She’d also nag you to wear some color! Folk’ll mistake you for a corpse!_

Dettlaff threw his head back and laughed.


	44. Chapter 44

They settled into an abandoned cottage under the cover of night. The long-dried blood on the walls told a tale neither cared to ponder at any length – even faded, the scent sung like a siren call. For Regis’ sake, Dettlaff removed the rotten bed and the bones that lay upon it.

“I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that that young lass didn’t leave behind a wraith. I could barely fend off your lovely admirer in the village!” Regis chuckled as he sat down.

“What?”

“You didn’t notice?”

“There wasn’t anything _to_ notice!”

“Really, now? Ah, blissful ignorance.”

“You pest.”


	45. Chapter 45

“…You were joking.” Dettlaff surmised out of the blue. Nearby, Regis looked up from the rabbit he was drinking and raised one brow.

“You’ll have to be more specific. All my sarcastic quips blend together after a time.”

“About that villager girl. You just wanted to get a rise out of me.”

“That I did, but lies were unnecessary. She really was taken with you. Inevitable in retrospect – who wouldn’t fall a little in love with a tall, dark, and handsome hero?”

“Any sane person, when he looks older than her father!”

“Age just adds to your dignity, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no update! Life stuff forced me away from the screen for awhile, but I'll be trying to get back into the habit in order to wrap up this series!


	46. Chapter 46

“What about you, then? By that logic, you are the most dignified being for miles.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m _not_?” A wicked smirk.

“Elders forbid.”

“I thought as much! And as for your question, yes. I’ve had my fair share of admirers and admirations alike.”

“Easy to claim, hard to prove.”

“Not when the succubus left scars! My friend Geralt had to sink me in Novigrad’s harbor for three days until the coast was clear.”

“You and the witcher seem very…close.”

“I know what you’re implying, and no. Not that kind of close.” Regis sighed and looked away.


	47. Chapter 47

“Truly…?” His voice lifts with something he is reluctant to identify.

“I’m sorry to disappoint if you had some wild theory about how Geralt seduced me into betraying my species or some such nonsense.”

Dettlaff’s surprise must be obvious, because Regis sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, come old chap, give me _some_ credit! I know allying with a witcher for any reason is complete anathema. Our society is too petrified in its old ways to see the necessity of adaptation.”

“Forgive me, then, for underestimating your political acumen.”

“Apology not accepted, on account of that shit-eating smirk you’re sporting.”


	48. Chapter 48

“Make yourself at home...” Dettlaff muttered while dumping their packs on the bed. Not even two steps into their ‘home’ and he was already cursing himself over the lackadaisical farce he called ‘deep cleaning’. There were so many overlooked details sending spikes of guilt and shame into his gut. Regis would surely hate it.

“That will be incredibly easy! It looks exactly like my old abode in Dillingen!”

What.

“Is that so.”

“Yes, right down to the birch planks! All it needs is a few personal touches and it will be a palace. You can drop that sour pout, now.”


	49. Chapter 49

“No, no, no! I’m telling you, he sounds more like, ‘Well, good eeeeveniiiiing’, not ‘Weeeeelll, goooood evening’.” Regis insists, grinning at Dettlaff from over the rim of his goblet.

“Who died and made you foremost linguistic expert? You’ve never even been to Cintra!”

“It’s a talent of mine, accurately imitating the pomposity of the aristocracy.”

“Whereas mine is becoming the ability to detect your bullshit.”

“Then I’m doing you a favor, dear man! Your previous state of gullibility was as adorable as it was pitifully profound.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He grumbles, lifting his cup so Regis doesn’t see him smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of a double update to apologize for my laziness!


	50. Chapter 50

The wine cache barely lasted until the early morning. By the time the moon started her descent, the two men were warm and pleasantly buzzed as they lay propped against the wall.

“This stuff...is great.” Dettlaff murmured.

“Just wait till I get some mandrake spirit brewed. You’ll have the time of your life…for the first ten minutes.”

“Time spent like this isn’t something I want to forget.” Dettlaff pushed the words out before his brain could interfere, unwilling to let his anxieties steal this precious drop of time from him. He leaned into Regis’ warmth, a moth to the flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double update to apologize for my lackadaisical update speed of late!


	51. Chapter 51

A long silence stretched between them. Regis considered moving away, but kindness and the weight of debt encouraged him to blunt this inevitable strike.

“Dettlaff, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy your company. But I cannot give what you are seeking. Not now.” He bowed his head, gathered his strength, and met his friend’s confused gaze.

“What are you talking about...?”

“This...intimacy that you seek. I trust that it wasn’t your goal for reviving me, but it only hurts us both if I ignore it any longer.”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“No, I didn’t expect that you would. Your heart and your mind seem to have a terrible time guessing what the other wants.”

“It was not my intent to...to do anything untoward.” Like a frightened turtle, Dettlaff withdrew into himself at lightning speed. Pity tugged at his heart, despite Regis’ best attempts to remain impassive.

“I know that. Before now, I wasn’t certain what your intentions were. But now...This situation, your words, you must see how they could be seen as a romantic appeal...?”

“No, I...” He bowed his head and stood. “I have been an idiot. Forgive me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 200 word update - because 100 words just isn't enough to convey the full breadth of this awkwardness. In which Dettlaff has the self-awareness and emotional maturity of a teenager. R I P


	52. Chapter 52

Three days have passed since Dettlaff fled the cabin in a fit of mortification. He’s yet to muster the courage to even contemplate going back, much less facing Regis and the shame he’s certainly caused. How lonely and pathetic must one be, to force such a situation on another? He’s never even been interested in men!

He attempts to stomp down on the horde of thoughts that rise like worms through the muck of his panicked mind. He cannot bear to consider what they dare to whisper. Not now, preferably not ever.

He needs to get away. Far, far away.


	53. Chapter 53

On the tenth day of his self-imposed exile, Dettlaff finally tired enough to attempt taking rest. The abandoned mansion he’d found was, to his surprise, home to nothing more dangerous than a large collection of dust. It was almost a shame – the adrenaline of a fight would have made a welcome distraction from the cacophony in his mind.

He had yet to fully face the extent of what he’d ruined that night. Regis had, in the short years of their acquaintance, been the truest friend Dettlaff had ever known. He expected nothing, was grateful for everything, and knew exactly when Dettlaff needed a shoulder or a punch to the jaw.

After the trial in Nevarra, he’d spent his life rebuilding himself into someone that could stand as a pillar of their society. He’d parlayed with the lower houses, built a truce between their factions, and reigned in violence against the mortals as best as he was able. And, when he heard that the man who saved his life needed him, he left all of that in a heartbeat.

One stupid, drunken mistake. Apparently, that was all it took for two hundred years of labor and perseverance to crumble into dust.


	54. Chapter 54

On the tenth day of his self-imposed exile, Dettlaff finally tired enough to attempt taking rest. The abandoned mansion he had found was, to his surprise, home to nothing more dangerous than a large collection of dust. A shame – the adrenaline of a fight would have been a welcome distraction.

  
No matter. He dropped himself onto the bed and buried his face in his hands.  
One stupid, drunken mistake. Apparently, that was all it took for him to lose the best friend he’d ever made. Shame gathered like bile at the back of his throat.

  
Dettlaff stood like lightning and kicked a chair. All of his rage and despair solidified around the pain, spurred him on until everything in the room was reduced to splinters. And at the end, when he was left with nothing but bruises and blood, he screamed until his lungs choked on the vacuum. He screamed like the sound would drain all of the black tar sticking to his innards, as if it had the power to reverse time and release him from his own idiocy.

  
It did not.

  
It could not.

  
He knew that, but this pain temporarily overshadowed the other, and that was enough.


	55. Chapter 55

When the blood-red sore in his heart had cooled, Dettlaff decided to send a letter. Regis deserved more, much more, but he was still unsure whether 'more' consisted of a thousand prostrate apologies or total removal from Regis' life. He hated himself a little for being relieved that their blood bond would likely prevent the latter.

He took the silver candlesticks that had survived the typhoon of his grieving and went to the city. And there, just as he was teetering on the brink of success, sharp grey eyes struck him through the heart.

He had to know her name.


	56. Chapter 56

The curtains billowed. Not unusual, except for the heavy scent of iron. Regis straightened his back and did not flinch when sharp claws pressed against his jugular. This reckoning was long overdue.  
  
“What happened to him?”  
  
“Something you would approve of, I imagine.”  
  
“Do not pretend you care to know the first thing about me. Tell me where Dettlaff is or I undo every last second he spent on cobbling you back together.”  
  
“He left two months ago. I…was a greater disappointment than even I imagined.”  
  
“That’s the first truthful thing to slither out of your mouth. Explain. Now.”

 


	57. Chapter 57

“Bastard!” Sharp claws cleaved through the back of a chair. Regis manifested on the opposite side of the room, teeth clamped tight to hide his exhaustion. Gethera rounded on him with her teeth bared in a wild snarl.

 

“I didn’t intend for this to happen! Would you rather I have deceived him with sugar-coated pity?!” He slowly retreated.

 

“No,” she spat, “You have done enough to lead him astray! At least now he is beyond the reach of your perversions. And I will do what I must to keep it that way.”

 

“If you would please just _listen_ -“

 

She lunged.


	58. Chapter 58

Of all the ways a strapping, well-aged bachelor like himself could spend Yule, hiding in the silt of a vile marsh was not one he’d anticipated. There was a peculiar nostalgia about it. Memories of the long years spent regenerating after the mob kept plucking like insipid crows at the edges of his mind.

Perhaps life really was cyclical. The last time he’d had to hide like this had given him a window for introspection. One that seemed sorely needed in light of recent events.

He hadn’t lied when he refused Dettlaff’s advance, but was not-lying the same as honesty?


End file.
